Yesterday, I watched my dog, George, chewing on a nut shell. As a result, this is the story that came out of my brain! It’s a bit…er…nutty.
Once upon a time, there was a dog named George. He was a fat little bugger because he kept eating nuts. Human nuts. Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t mean testicles so get those nuts out of your mind right away. I mean crazy people, those kinds of human nuts, and let’s be honest, there are lots of them.
Sometimes, it’s hard for George to tell whether a human is only part nut or is a whole nut. He prefers the whole nuts. Especially when they are dipped in chocolate, although it is very rare to find a whole human nut who has been dipped in chocolate. Unless they are truly nutty nuts, of course.
One day, George was out hunting nuts. He chewed on the toes and legs and hands and arms of lots different humans, trying to find the perfect nutty one but all he could find were half-nuts and the occasional not-at-all nuts.
This won’t do, he thought to himself. Where can I find me some whole nuts? He toddled over to the pier, thinking that only nuts would sit outside by the sea on such a windy and rainy day. He pushed and struggled through the weather, squinting his eyes against the splash of the sea, and he found some people sat on benches. He began his taste tests.
“Excuse me sir,” a young lady said as George nibbled at her ankles. “Do you mind? That’s my ankle, that is! You are not even supposed to see it, let alone eat it!”
“I’m looking for some whole nuts to fill my empty belly,” George said to her. “But you are only part nut and so you are no good to me.”
“I am not part nut!” the lady declared with a gasp, twirling her parasol around in her daintily gloved hands. “I am a not-at-all nut thank you very much!”
“Oh no,” said George. “Not-at-all nuts are very rare indeed. Almost all humans have some nutty part. You should all come with a warning label: May Contain Nuts. Anyway, I shan’t bother you any longer. I’m off to find me some whole nut.”
“Hang on one moment sir!” the lady cried out as George walked away. He swung around in surprise.
“Yes? What is it?” he asked, hoping that she had spotted a tasty (chocolatey) whole nut for him to munch on.
“Well I really do not think that you should be eating nuts, whole or otherwise.”
“Are they bad for my health? I don’t think I have a nut allergy. I’m sure I would have noticed by now,” George replied with furrowed brow. He was confused by this lady’s claim.
“Well I am sure that they are not great for your health, they are after all such a large quantity of food for such a small little dog. But no, that’s not what I meant at all.” The wind blew fiercely and the young lady’s parasol blew inside out! She didn’t notice though, and carried on twirling it prettily. That would probably be the nutty part of her.
“Whatever did you mean then?” George was quite flabbergasted and he wasn’t amused at having to stop and discuss this when he should be hunting nuts.
“Well, all those poor human nuts, do you think that they deserve to meet their end between your grizzly, drooly chops? Do you think that they deserve to be eaten?”
“Listen lady, I am a dog not an ethicist. It’s not my job to work out the rights and wrongs of things. It’s my job to fill my belly and then fall asleep by the fire. What more do you want from me?” George, by now, was getting rather frustrated and considered the pros of eating half-nuts such as this young lady.
“There is no reason,” the lady declared with authority, “for a dog to not consider his actions in the same way that we humans do. How would you feel if I started eating your kind, hmmm?”
“Honestly, I wouldn’t care. As long as you weren’t eating me.”
“Well maybe I will eat you, maybe I will eat you all up and then mop up your gravy with a slice bread.” The lady looked off into the distance with a hmph. George took advantage of her inattention to scuttle off in another direction to find himself a perfect whole nut.
Ah, there you are, he thought with delight as he finally found his whole nut, who was sat at a computer, reading a silly story.
For more short stories and other bookish nonsense, go to www.rileyjfroud.com; or if you really want a laugh, why not buy Riley J.’s book, John Sharpe: No. 1,348?
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